


Blood & Charcoal

by vonuberwald (macabreromansu)



Series: Family Matters [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Superfamily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-10 19:43:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macabreromansu/pseuds/vonuberwald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Superfamily fic. Peter is injured on a mission with the Avengers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> First superfamily fic, and superhero fic in general, so forgive me if anyone seems overly out of character.
> 
> Cross-posted to http://vonuberwald.tumblr.com/

Time slows down to an infinite crawl. The way it seems to every time you run faster, harder than anyone else, the way it does when something's coming at you at a hundred miles an hour and you have all the time in the world to dodge.. 

People are shouting around you, at you, but you have no ears to hear, no eyes for them. Just him.

Your son lies on the ground in front of you, the mask of his suit ripped away by the blast, the rest of him not much better off.

You discard the shield. It's suddenly too much of a weight in your hand. Cool air against your head means you've removed your own mask somewhere along the line. All of these things are trivial, practically unconscious.

You kneel beside the broken body in front of you, taking your son's head into your arms and cradling it. You can't even speak, but look at him as he looks at you, feebly moving his head, eyes searching out yours.

'D-d-'

You shake your head and have to force yourself to take a breath as the pain in your chest reaches almost critical. 

'Pete...' 

He coughs a little, a trickle of blood, black in this light, trailing from his lips. 

God, so much blood.

He takes another rasping breath and your grip tightens around his shoulders at the pain in that one sound.

'We'll... I'll get you to a hospital right away. I... Tony is...'

Where _is_ Tony? You don't know and it's excruciating to tear your gaze away from your son for even a second but you raise your head and cast around for Iron Man.

And when you can't see him immediately, you start to get panicked, an ugly emotion you thought you'd cast aside.

But when it comes to Tony, to Peter...

There's a flash of light on gold paint and you see Tony grappling with a HYDRA agent. You don't know if that's the last of them, not sure you even care.

You yell, ' _Tony!_ ' You forget you all have earpieces now, but it has the desired effect anyway. The enemy agent is knocked back against a wall, sliding to the ground in an unconscious slump, and Tony is on his way over to your side immediately, his curses ringing in your ear.

The faceplate in his helmet is taken away and then there is only your lover, staring first at Peter and then at you, wide-eyed, expression horrified, lost.

Then, 'Hospital. Now,' and relief rushes through you, enabling you to move. You gingerly pick Peter up, mindful of any hidden injuries he may have, and hand him to your lover.

You say 'I'll follow behind,' though it's tearing you apart not to be able to go with them both, and Tony nods, taking off.

'I'll be fast,' he says thickly, and you can feel the reassurance in waves.

'I know,' you whisper as he leaves.

**To be continued...**


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asdfg So much superfamily. So adorable, but when they get angsty, they sure do get angsty. Been destroyed any number of times by sad drabbles and fanarts on Tumblr. But keep it going on, guys 83/

You're flying on pure instinct right now. Your focus has narrowed down to a single point – Peter.

Peter in your arms, probably bleeding out, the description limp as a broken doll never more apt, but you don't let your mind touch upon that before you're telling JARVIS to direct more energy to the suit's thrusters.

You can barely hear the A.I.'s response when he tells you he already had the moment you took off, your heart in your throat, eyes stinging as though with tears. But you'll have time to shed those later.

Once he's safe.

A litany of _pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease_ is running through your head as you alight just outside the hospital A  & E wing, people already rushing forward, caught by the sight of the Iron Man suit.

You hand him over to the nearest white coat, faceplate coming away as you demand, shout, plead at them. Hands press you back, taking him away and you want to follow, but can only stand there, staring hopelessly after.

Eventually, you realise you've been led into a private waiting area. There's an untouched, cold and coagulating Styrofoam cup of coffee on a table with plastic-looking plants on it. You don't know how long you've been there, but the suit is packed away into its compact briefcase mode by your feet.

'JARVIS-?' You start to say, hoarsely. Should've taken a sip of the coffee. No, not important. Peter.

 _'Yes, sir?_ ' The voice of the A.I. replies from the watch on your wrist.

'How long... How long have I been here?'

JARVIS seems to pause before answering but it could just be the tension, the agonising suspense messing with you.

' _Three hours, sir_.' Shit.

'Still nothing?'

' _No, sir. Captain America has just informed me that he was delayed with clean-up. He is now on his way_.'

Right. Because your job is such that personal is no longer the same as important. Not when it means so many other lives at risk.

Some days, you really hate being one of the good guys.

Your bitter musing are interrupted, this time by a door leading to the corridor they'd taken Peter through. A nurse, Hispanic and pretty, comes through and nods to him, her mouth thin and unsmiling. Your breath hitches in your throat.

'Peter?'

'If you'll follow me, Mr Stark, through to the recovery room, the doctor will be along later to discuss the extent of your son's injuries with you.'

You do, without another word, until you are led through the corridor beyond and the nurse stops outside the door to a unlettered room, knocking on the door.

'Considering the circumstances,' she says, looking up at you. 'The doctor thought this room may be more suitable.'

You're nodding, hardly caring at the moment if the whole world were to see, internally yelling at her to open the damn door.

And then it's open and you follow her through, breathing a little erratic as you try to get it together, prepare yourself for what you might see next.

'...Pete.'

**To be continued...**


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's PoV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was actually expecting this to be the last chapter, but I think there's probably one more in it. Needs more Steve. Unbeta'd, always. Apologies for any glaring mistakes.

When you manage to unglue your eyelids, it feels like your entire body has been coated in cotton wool, you're feeling that numb.

Then consciousness hits, your mouth is dryer than the middle of the desert and you're fairly sure that your skin isn't supposed to prickle like pins-and-needles, only in your _entire body._ Something very bright and blue-tinted is shining in your peripheral vision, but as soon as you try to move your head in that general direction, you don't need the achingly familiar voice of your dad to tell you that that's a bad idea. 

'Hey, Pete, take it easy there.'

But,  _oh_ , it's good to hear his voice.

The last thing you remember is fire and pain and almost an absent worry underneath it all that they won't let you out on a mission with them ever again after this. Then your other dad is there, mask off, cradling your head whilst your on the floor practically in the middle of a war zone, yelling. 

Then blackness came on the wings of cool air rushing by your face and the sensation of being gripped tightly,, possessively, against hard armour.

'Pete? You there, buddy?'

Back to the present and Dad is right next to you, looking at you with so much concern is his voice and expression that you have to smile, a reflexive reaction to reassure him you're okay. Only, when you try to vocalise it, the sound you make is barely human, prompting Dad to reach beside him for something and then you feel the cool press of a drinking straw against your lips as you raise your head a little, the better to drink without spilling it.

Water never tasted so good and you drink thirstily, the cool liquid soothing your throat. You drink the glass dry and lean your head back against your pillow in relief.

You try again, smiling still. 

'That... was close, huh?'

Dad doesn't smile back, his eyes seem dark, haunted and you wish you'd found something else to say. He replies all the same, nodding.

'Yeah, too close.' He pauses then and there's that fear again, that that was your first and last mission with the Avengers, and you start to think fast, ready to plead your case.

'I think in future...' Dad says, tentatively and that right there is super weird anyway and you open your mouth, protest on the tip of your tongue, but then,

'When you come out with us again, make sure you don't go off into buildings without some form of backup. Okay?'

Well, okay. You're officially stumped for words now. But... pleasantly so. You're so relieved, you think for a moment you might well up, but you're just about as ready to blame that on the whole lying injured in hospital thing too.

Speaking of the Avengers though...

Where's Pops?' You ask, eyes suddenly heavy again and you only catch the end of Dad's reply before you're dragged once more into sleep.

'...be here soon, just got off clean-up.'

The last sensation before the dark swallows you up again is your dad's hand resting on top of your head, a warm, familiar touch.

**To be continued...**


	4. Part IV - End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last part - Steve's PoV
> 
> Unbeta'd again - all mistakes are mine.

You're fighting not to rush into his room, to not just push the nurse with the kind-looking face out of the way and stride through, all the faster to see your child. 

But Captain America doesn't do that kind of thing, it would be unsightly, bad press. 

And, _oh_ , wouldn't you just shove it all right there and then, all of it, just to know that Peter's all right, to see him whole with your own eyes. You've already received the message from Tony telling you he'd woken up briefly, but it's not enough.

Your skin is almost itching, a hundred emotions flying through your entire body, worry and fear at their core, as the door is opened.

The lights are soft inside, the lamp on the bedside table is on rather than the harsher overhead ones. Peter is sat up in bed, reading from one of Tony's numerous tablets as Tony himself is in mid-sentence, gesturing broadly as he tells the story.

'-and _then_ , would you believe that Hulk sat down with him and watched every single episode? _I_ still don't and I recorded the entire thing for posterity!' 

Peter laughs, a golden, wonderful sound, fading as you enter. The nurse smiles and, as you nod your thanks at her, leaves the room quietly.

'Pete...' 

His smile is a mixture of guilt and love, but it is still the best thing you've seen since you found him after the blast.

'Hey, pops,' he says quietly, eyes darting down as you continue to just stand there before it hits you that he's worried that he disappointed you somehow. A glance at Tony's wry smile and shrug confirms it and you sit in the chair next to your lover, moving it closer to the bed.

'Your dad tell you about going into buildings with backup in future?' You smile at Peter's nod, the worry and the guilt fading from his expression.

'Then that's all we'll say about that for now.' You look at him closer now, seeing the gauze on his cheek covering the stitches Tony said he had to have, a gash far too close to his temple than you can think about without your breath catching, and the bruising around his eyes. 

And that's just the surface injuries.

'You...' To ask him if he's okay seems foolish. '...Feeling better, son?'

'Yep,' he nods, smiling brighter now. 'They didn't even have to give me anything.'

'Doctor says he can go in the morning. His ribs should've healed completely by then,' Tony chimes in. There are dark circles under his eyes and worry-lines seemingly etched into his forehead. You all could do with some bed rest, especially after a night like tonight. He looks at you.

'Still gotta report?' 

Fury. You shake your head. You took care of that, nerves jangling with every minute you stood in front of his desk and cursing every word that fell out of your mouth, wishing it was breath you were spending on going to your son's side, desire warring with duty on every front.

'You want us to stay tonight?' Tony asks, looking at Peter. _You_ want to stay here tonight, and you'd bet Stark Industries and the Iron Man suit that your lover feels the same.

But, it's up to Peter, and he's an Avenger now even though he's also your son, which means that he's grown up, making his own decisions.

Which is why you're so proud even as you are saddened by it and it doesn't hurt when Peter shakes his head.

'Thanks, dad, pops, but I'll be fine. Might need a lift to school in the morning though?' He grins and Tony tousles his shock of hair making it – if possible – even messier, careful not to snag the gauze on his cheek with his watch.

'Right you are,' you nod, smiling back. Tony gets up, stretches noisily, puts on his jacket. Before you leave, you both turn back and see your son's eyes already drooping with sleep and you walk back to his bedside and reach down to turn off the lamp.

If your other hand happens to brush lightly over Peter's and linger a second, then no one is going to dare call you out on it, not over your child.

The sound of the door closing at your backs is loud and seems to echo down the empty corridor, but you keep walking. 

And in the morning, a whole, hale family again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that happened, and I hope there weren't as many feelings ripped to shreds reading it as there were writing it ; ;


End file.
